The gift
by Tomoe2
Summary: Set after season 11, Castiel has been given a gift that has turned to a curse. Destiel story. Season 12 spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel sat on the armrest of the old fauteuil. Through the weathered curtain, the neon sign of the motel casted its red light on the two sleeping men. Sam slept on his side, facing away. His feet poked from under the blanket. Castiel wondered if he ever dreamed of proper beds. The angel shifted his attention to Dean. The older brother lay on his stomach, his arms and legs splayed as if he meant to claim the entirety of the space as his on. He faced Castiel, his head resting on the pillow, a gun resting under the pillow, no doubt. The angel observed his smooth brow, his straight nose, the angle of his jaw… the curvature of his slightly parted lips. He sighed. This was hardly a gift…

" _Castiel." God called to him._

" _Father? Where are we? Where are Amara and Dean?"_

 _God shook his head gently. Don't you worry about them. Castiel nodded._

" _You've proven yourself again and again." The angel shook his head._

" _I've been nothing but a disappointed, Father."_

 _God smiled. This is for me to decide._

" _I want to give you something." God held out his open hand. In his palm rested a small luminous gem._

" _What is it?"_

 _Good shook his head, laughing gently. You never listen, do you?_

" _Just take it. It'll give you want you want the most."_

And taken he had. The gem had melted in his hand, travelled to the seat of his grace and fused with it. It had felt its warmth, its kindness. Yet he hadn't felt the same. No change at all. Or so he had thought. Coming back to the bunker and finding Dean alive, he believed for a moment that this had been his deepest yearning. The gem had brought Dean back to life. However, he had found out what his wish truly had been when he had embraced his friend.

" _Dean!"_

 _Castiel hugged his friend. They had embraced many times before, but it had never felt like this. The warmth of Dean's body set his skin ablaze, his smell gave him goosebump and the feeling of his breath on his neck brought forth thoughts the pizza man might have had. He reluctantly broke the embrace, his entire body electrified. He tried to hide his embarrassment by focusing on Mary._

What he desired most. Had God known. Had his gift been a poisoned apple, a form of retribution for everything Castiel had done? He would have gladly taken Hell over this agony. Night after night, since the beginning of this case, he had sat in the dark observing Dean. God only knew how creepy he looked. Come morning, he would lie, saying that he had done this or that, research this database, questioned that redeye shift medic… The boys would believe him and get on with the tasks of the day. Dean would thank him, clap him on the back unknowing of the fact that his very presence was torture to Castiel: a torture he welcomed, day after day, with no possibility of redemption.

Sam walked in the room to grab the last of their bags. Dean sat at the table, reassembling the gun he had just cleaned. He looked up.

"All good to go?"

Sam grabbed the heavy duffle bag and nodded. Dean got up.

"Cas?"

Sam gestured to the car with his chin.

"Speaking of Cas…"

Dean raised an eyebrow. Sam closed the distance between them, dropping his voice to a conspiracy level.

"Is it me or has Cas been weird since the whole Amara-God thing?"

Dean pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Cas is weird. That's what he does."

Sam shook his head and got closer.

"That's not what I mean… Dean, Cas has been lying to us."

"What do you mean?"

Sam furtively glanced behind him.

"You know how he's been checking in on all those people while we slept?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well none of it checks out. I've looked up all of those people; they either don't exist or have never heard of us or Castiel."

"Maybe he's wiped their memory clean, MIB style." Dean grinned. Sam sighed.

"Dean. I've been keeping an eye on him for the last two days. He doesn't go out at night."

"What do you mean?"

Sam pinched his lips and raised his eyebrows.

"He's been sitting right there." He pointed at the couch. "Every night he just sits there."

"What? Why?"

Sam shook his head.

"I have no idea. I've set up a camera. He just… stares."

Dean grimaced.

"Well that's not creepy at all."

Sam nodded.

"Anyway, let's go. You can always ask him when we get home." Sam made for the door.

"Why me?" asked Dean.

Sam stopped in the door and turned his head towards his brother.

"Because he stares at _you_."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam sat at the kitchen table, distractedly surfing the web for a case and drinking a green juice. Dean walked in. His he was disheveled (a feat for someone with such short hair) and his eyes were red. Sam watched with a smirk as his haggard brother plopped himself on the chair across from him.

"So?"

Dean sighed and massaged his forehead.

"He came to my room, alright. He leaned on my desk and stared at me all night. I had to pretend to be asleep all night." He crossed his arms on the table and nest his head on top.

"Did you talk to him?"

Dean shook his head without lifting it.

"Dean, you're going to have to say something."

The man raised his head.

"Are you crazy? I can't just _say_ something. What would I say anyway?"

"How about, why are you staring at me while I sleep?"

"Ha! Right. No. I will put wards on my walls. That should take care of the problem."

"What problem?"

The brothers turned to the door where Castiel was standing, looking as fresh as always. The Winchesters looked at each other.

"Nothing. Just a… my back. It's been bothering me since we came back." Dean stood up and stretched, his hands resting on his lower back.

"I can restore your back, Dean."

Dean gave a forced laugh.

"Oh, no no no. I'm actually feeling better. Much better, in fact. You two can…" Dean threw Sam a desperate glance. Sam smiled. Dean glared at him. "Anyway. See you later Cas."

Dean walked past Castiel, his eyes averting the angel's. Sam smiled at Castiel awkwardly and resumed his internet search with all his focus this time.

He had waited in the reading room until he had sensed that both of the boys had fallen asleep. He had waited in the dark with a mix of dread and anticipation. He looked at the clock. 2am. Silently, he got up and walked to Dean's room. He sensed it even before his hand touched the doorknob. Wards. And not your layman's kind. This was pretty powerful magic. His palms tingled as he lay his palms flat on the door. His heart sank. Somehow, Dean had found out.

Castiel back away from the door and leaned against the wall. Slowly, he slid against the cold concrete and sat down, his knees close to his chest. His head hung between his knees, his hand folded on the nape of his neck. Of course Dean had found out. That's what they did, find things out. And there was nothing he could do about it. He just couldn't walk up to Dean and ask him why he had set up wards. That would be giving himself away, plainly admitting his guilt by putting it into words. The pain in his chest intensified and his eyes burned. He didn't like these sensations. They had come with the gift. Human feelings. He had felt something similar after the fall, but never as strong as this. This was excruciating. This was unbearable.

Sam sat in the reading room, his laptop playing a video feed in a loop. Cas had gone out on an errand and Dean was in the shower. It had been three days since Dean had set up the wards. Each night, Castiel had waited in this very seat before walking to Dean's door, touching it and sitting across the hall until sunrise. Each night, he had looked more desperate, his face contorted as if in pain. Sam knew Castiel experienced some sort of feeling, but he had never seen him like this. At least not while he was himself. It just made any sense. It was as if… As if… Sam shook his head.

"Impossible"

"What's impossible?" asked Dean.

Sam looked up. Dean was wrapped in a towel, his hair still wet.

"Nothing." replied Sam. "But you should look at this."

Catiel stood in front of the door of the apartment. The neighborhood was clean, nondescript. The perfect place to disappear. He shouldn't have come. It was a mistake. He made to turn away when the door suddenly opened before him, revealing Mary Winchester. She gasped.

"Castiel. What are you doing here? Are the boys ok?"

"They are fine."

Relief.

"How did you find me?"

"I'm an angel." he said, matter of factly.

She laughed.

"Of course. Then why are you here?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake."

He turned to go. She grabbed his arm.

"This is about Dean, isn't it?"

Castiel faced her anew. How…? She smiled at him softly.

"Call it a mother's intuition. Come in."

The ball of anxiety in Castiel's stomach grew heavier.


	3. Chapter 3

The spartan room was clean, devoid of any personality. If it hadn't been for John's journal and a picture of Dean and Sam as children on the coffee table, the place would have looked completely uninhabited. Mary came back with two steaming paper cups.

"Do you drink?" she asked as she handed him a cup.

"Yes." He took the tea and cupped it with his hands, feeling the warmth tingle his palms, not unlike the sigils did on Dean's door. His heart sank.

"You're in love with my son."

He jerked his head up. She was frank.

"I didn't think angels could love. Mind you I didn't believe you existed at all, but this goes against the lore."

He nodded.

"We can't. Not normally."

He told her about God and the gem. She listened attentively.

"I don't understand this feeling. You human sing its praise yet it causes me great pain." His voice wavered. Something warm and prickly pushed behind his eyes. He looked up from his hands. Mary's eyes met his.

"Have you told Dean?"

Castiel shook his head.

"Maybe you should."

"I didn't expect you to say this. My vessel and Dean are both male. Humans don't normally agree with this."

She put a hand on his knee and smiled at him.

"And yet, you came."

Castiel smiled back.

"Listen to me, Castiel. I can't pretend to know my son. I haven't spent enough time with him yet. But I can tell you one thing that hasn't changed and that I'm sure you know. Despite this act of toughness, Dean is a very sensitive man. He is kind. You should talk to him."

"I am scared." The words came out of his mouth before he could think to stop them.

"I am afraid there is nothing you can do about this. Isn't the prospect of living in pain like you are right not more frightful?"

Castiel pinched his lips. He didn't know.

"Dean?"

Sam walked around the bunker, looking for his brother. He called again. No answer. He finally walked in the kitchen to find Dean leaning against the sink, his head tilted back, a bottle of beer at his lips. There were three other empty bottles on the counter.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?"

"The hell it looks like?" Dean replied before drinking the last of his fourth beer.

"You can get drunk to talk to Cas."

Dean shrugged.

"Why not? This can't get any weirder."

Sam propped the book he'd been carrying on the table.

"You'd think so… I've been looking around and found this. He turned the book around and slid it across the table. Dean leaned in.

"Vota orbis? The orb of desire?"

"Wishes."

Sam grabbed the book back.

"According to the gospel of Thomas, the vota orbis or orb of wishes is bestowed upon the deserving by God. It merges with the soul and gives the receiver his deepest desire. It seems to be completely out of the control of the receiver as to which wish is granted. The orb deals with the unconscious mind."

Dean frowned.

"Does it say anything about angels?"

"I looked through both Thomas' and Philip's gospels but only found vague allusions. I can only assume that the orb would merge with his grace."

Dean opened another beer and took a swig.

"This makes no sense. When would God have given him this? And why would it make him.. act…"

Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment.

"You think Cas is…"

Sam nodded. Dean put down his beer. There wasn't enough alcohol in this world to make him forget this.

Dean paced the reading room. It was well past midnight. Castiel should have been back by now. Sam had disappeared a few moments after their discussion in the kitchen. Dean wished he had stayed but he was also glad he had gone. He didn't want any witnesses. This was already embarrassing enough. Yet at the same time he had no idea how Castiel would react and it filled him with anxiety. Cas was his friend. He didn't want to hurt his feelings. Speaking of which, how much feeling could he actually feel? Before he could explore the question further, the door of the bunker opened and closed. Each step Cas took downstairs filled Dean with dread. His mouth suddenly dried. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. Castiel finally came into view. Dean saw an expression on his friend's face that he had never seen before. He felt as if it reflected his very own. He opened his mouth to speak but Castiel's gaze prevented him from saying anything. He followed it. The Gospel of Thomas. Dean sighed. His eyes met Castiel's.

"So you know." The angel whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

The two men stood face to face, a mere few paces apart and yet it felt to Castiel like all the oceans of the planet were separating them. He didn't know what to say. Where was he supposed to begin? Dean knew about the Vota Orbis, but what he didn't know was what it had awaken in Castiel. What had taken root so deeply in his grace that it was now indistinguishable from his essence. He chanced a look at Dean's face. The man was frowning. He looked down. His arms were crossed on his chest. This would be an uphill battle.

"Are you going to tell me what the Hell is going on?"

Aggression. Dean's best offense when he felt powerless. Castiel explained how God had given him the gem. No, he didn't know exactly where it fit in the whole timeline, and truth be told, it was the almighty they were dealing with; time was irrelevant.

"I know how this thing works. In theory, at least. But what I want to know is what it did to you. What did it do to turn you into a creepy angelic Edward?"

"I don't under…"

"You don't understand that reference. Yeah, I know." Dean's tone was harsher. Anger was on the rise. He took a few steps forward but left enough space between them to make it impossible to touch. Or be touched.

"We both know what I want to know. So fess up, Cas."

Castiel sighed. He could feel the prickling behind his eyes again. The weight in the pit of his stomach grew exponentially by the second.

"I… The orb…It..."

Dean's green eyes stared him down. A gaze any stronger might have pierced his vessel through. Castiel suddenly felt all his strength and courage leave him.

"I will pack my things. I apologize for the discomfort I've caused you."

He took a few steps towards the sleeping quarters but he didn't make it far. Dean grabbed him by the arm. His grip was unusually strong. Or maybe it was that Castiel felt unusually weak.

"You're not walking away from this one. What the Hell is going on?"

"The Vota Obis. It gave me the thing I wished to have more than anything else. It gave me more than I knew I longed for."

He turned to face Dean. He gave the man a sad smile.

"I have always felt affection for you two. Of a kind, at least. Some leftover from when I was human for while, I presume. But love… That was foreign to me. The gem gave me that. It gave me more than that. It made me…" he sighed. His voice wavered. "It made me love you."

Dean gave a nervous laugh. He cocked his head, all smiles.

"Like, brotherly love, you mean. Right, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head. Dean let god of the angel's arm and took a few step back. Castiel had thought he'd know his fair share of pain but nothing could compare with this blatant gesture of rejection. Dean turned his back to him and grabbed the back of a chair. His knuckles turned white.

"Can we fix this?"

Castiel frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Dean turned to face him anew, his face such a mix of emotions it was impossible to make sense of any of it.

"There has to be a way to remove that thing. Bring you back to good old Cas."

An arrow through the heart. Castiel took a step back, reeling. His field of vision was narrowing. He felt his stomach rising.

"I don't want to remove it." he whispered.

Dean exhaled loudly. He put his hands on his hips, puckered his lips, then, changing his mind, opened his arms and leaned forward.

"Well I'm not gay."

Castiel's head shot up, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

"This terminology doesn't apply. I am an angel of the Lord."

"Well your vessel sure ain't female. I don't play on that team, if you know what I mean."

Castiel didn't know what a team had to do with this but he chose to ignore it.

"I should have know this would be your reaction."

"Well you should have known not to creep on me in my sleep." He spat those words out like venom.

"That was wrong. And I apologize. If my vessel is a problem, I can find a new one." He couldn't hide the desperation in his voice.

Dean shook his head. Then he started laughing softly.

"You don't get it, do you. Even in a female body you'd still be you. I couldn't possibly look at or let alone, touch you."

The coup de grâce.

Dean stared at Castiel. For a moment, there was nothing between them except for the shockwave Dean's words had left in their wake. Castiel barely held it together. Dean's expression betrayed a mix of victory and horror. Silently, he broke their stillness and walked past Castiel. With the sound of the door banging shut, the angel collapsed to his knees.

He'd tossed and turned for a long time. He still couldn't believe what had transpired in the reading room. It was nothing but a dream, surely. But he knew it wasn't, no matter how much he wished for it. He'd fallen into a deep sleep at some point, it could have been only for minutes or it could have been hours. He looked at the clock. 1:34. He turned on his back and stroke his face with his open hand. What the Hell was he going to do now? He couldn't pretend like nothing had happened, obviously. Then what? He couldn't possibly get back to a normal life with Castiel's eyes constantly on him. Asking the angel to leave would be the best thing to do. The best solutions for all parties. _The best solution for you._ He growled and pulled the covers up before sitting up. Only then did he notice a strange humming. A low, pulsating buzzing that came and went. He grabbed his gun, cocked it, and set out to discover the source of the noise.

His investigation quickly led him to the garage, where the humming increased in such strength that it was bordering on unbearable. It made Dean queasy. A bright white light seeped from under the door. It appeared to follow the same pattern the noise did. Whatever this thing was, it would do him serious damage. He considered turning back. He shook his head. This might be exactly the distraction he needed. He turned the knob and kicked the door open. He took three steps and collapsed.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean came to. The light was gone, but the humming was still present, if much quieter.

"Dean?"

He tried to prop himself up on his hands but he slipped. His vision finally focused on the ground. It was covered in blood. His blood. Using his elbow, he slowed raised himself to a seated position. He could see something moving not far from him, but his vision was not good enough yet to identify what it was. He methodically inspected in body, limb by limb. No pain. He finally brought his hands to his face. Blood. It had gushed from his nose and from his ears. Even from his eyes, he found out as he smeared the fast congealing liquid across his cheeks. Suddenly, Castiel was crouching in front of Dean, a worried look on his face.

"Dean, are you alright?"

His mouth ajar, Dean nodded distractedly, looking around then focusing on the angel. He was dishevelled, his eyes bloodshot and his forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He had discarded his jacket and his tie was undone. His shirt looked tattered, even burnt in some place. Something was wrong, no, not wrong, just… Different. Oppressing. Dean's eyes lost their focus for a moment and that's when he saw them. Castiel's wings. Or the shadowy silhouette of his wings. They spanned wide on each side of the angel but there was no glory to them. They hung wistfully, tattered. Dean looked at Castiel.

"What happened?"

"Are you alright? Allow me to heal you."

Without waiting, Castiel pressed his two fingers on Dean's forehead. The fog cleared up immediately. He got up. Castiel followed.

"Here, use this." The angel offered him a handkerchief. Dean took it and wiped his face as best he could. He looked around again. The garage was as it always was, except for the blood at his feet.

"What happened?" he asked again, decided on getting an answer this time around.

Castiel brushed the question aside.

"You shouldn't have come. My true form could have killed you."

"Will you answer my bloody question? What. The Hell. Happened?!"

"I tried to do what you wanted."

Dean frowned and shook his head.

"What do you mean what I wanted. Stop talking in riddles!"

"The orb. I tried to remove it." Castiel's voice caught in his throat. Tears rolled on his cheeks. His brow furrowed. "I tried. So hard. I figured. I figured. It would be better." His breath caught after each word.

Dean looked on with confusion as Castiel descended into a sobbing fit. What was he supposed to do? Sam was the one who dealt with the emotional crap. This was way out of his league. Plus this was doing something to him. Was the pain of an angel harder to bear? Or was it that he knew that all that pain inside Castiel was in part his fault. To add to everything, this was very uncomfortable. Castiel wasn't very good at crying. Human reflexes were not his forte and so he just stood there, hands by his side, crying his eyes out and sobbing. It was almost comical. Almost.

Dean encircled Castiel's shoulder with his arm and lead him out of the garage with the intention of taking him to his bedroom. He remembered the warding at the last minute and so settled for Sam's room. He sat his friend on the bed and grabbed some tissues from Sam's nightstand.

"Here. Wipe your face."

Castiel obeyed.

"What's the point? It just keeps on coming. This is horrible" His voice was strangled. He looked down at his hands resting on his laps.

 _I'm going to regret this_ , thought Dean.

"Because I don't want you to dirty my shirt more than it needs to be. Come here"

Dean walked as close as he could to the bed and he embraced Castiel. The angel immediately responded and encircled Dean's waist with his arms. As if by instinct, Dean's hand found Castiel's head. Like this, with his friend's head resting against his chest, his body shivering, it seemed to Dean that Castiel had never been this small, this defenseless… this human.

It took a long while for Castiel to quiet down. It was as if the angel had cried for everything that had happened to him so far. Dean had held his friend patiently, eventually sitting next to him on the bed without ever completely breaking the embrace. It was Castiel who, his head still resting on Dean's shoulder, eventually broke the silence that had followed his tears.

"I couldn't find anything on how to remove the orb."

His voice was thin, tired.

"But I thought that maybe my true form might reject it. It was, after all, made for humans."

He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes.

"It didn't work. The more I tried, the deeper it dug, the harder it held on. The feelings were much more intense in my true form. Unbearable."

He got up and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"This shall offer me comfort. Knowing that no matter how strong the pull feels, this vessel is what allows me to keep it together. It'll make it easier to bury."

"Why the garage?" Dean's voice was flat.

"After you left I went to the Impala and sat there thinking for a long time before I decided to try to remove the orb. I figured this was as close to you I would possibly get. And if I failed and destroyed myself in the process, I would take your precious car with me." He laughed awkwardly and turned around to face Dean. He was surprised to see tears running down his face.

"Are you hurt?"

Dean shook his head and wiped his tears with his open hand.

"I'm sorry, Cas."

"Your apology is accepted, although I'm not sure for which offense."

Dean chuckled which brought more tears.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I shouldn't have put wards in my room. I should have talked to you."

"This is not the Winchester way."

Castiel's seriousness made Dean laugh again. He got off the bed and walked up to Castiel.

"Listen… I… I honestly don't know what to do of your feelings. You've saved me from Hell. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a best friend aside from Sammy. I realise you're not a man. I know that, but your vessel… I just don't know how to get past that. I need time to process all this."

Castiel nodded.

"I understand. Thank you. Could I ask you to hear out one more of my arguments?"

Dean gave the angel a half smile.

"Anything you want, Cas."

"Close your eyes."

"Woah, woah. No funny business here. Keep your hands to yourself, alright?"

"No funny business. My hands to myself. Now close your eyes."

Dean complied. Immediately, the humming came back. However, it was more peaceful. It lulled Dean without dulling his senses. Then he saw the light through his eyelids. It wasn't the burning white light of earlier, it was a warm golden glow. He suddenly heard a big whoosh followed by the sound of furniture crashing down.

"Cas, what's going on?" Dean asked, his eyes shut.

"Sorry. This room is a bit small for my wings."

"Your what?"

Before the words were out of his mouth, Dean felt a warm embrace. It was like being hugged but everywhere at once. His body was gently pressed against Castiel's. The whole experience was so pleasant he couldn't help trying to raise his arms to teach for the angel, to get as close as he could possibly be. His hands found Castiel back and he felt the wings stem powerfully from his shoulder blades. Then, suddenly, the angel's lips found his. He didn't even think to resist. The humming intensify, syncing with his own pulsating body. He replied to Castiel's kiss avidly, seeking more. He parted his lips, allowing the angel's tongue to explore his mouth and wanting nothing more than to explore back. He felt Castiel's hands on his back, pressing him ever closer. He broke the kiss.

"I said to keep your hands to yourself." he moaned.

"You don't seem to mind."

Castiel's mouth was on his again and he could feel his smile. Then, the entire universe disappeared. There was nothing but euphoria. Pleasure took over his entire body, every inch of his being basking in the glory of pleasure. In this moment he was the void. In this moment, he was the whole of creation.

When Dean opened his eyes, his left cheek was resting on Castiel's shoulder and he was drooling. The angel was supporting him under the arms to prevent him from sliding down. Embarrassed, Dean slowly pushed the angel away. He tripped and steadied himself on the wall. He wiped his mouth. The cold of the room hit him and he immediately realised that he his boxers would need changing.

"You ejaculated." Castiel stated.

Dean felt himself turn beet red.

"Don't! Don't say that!" He avoided Castiel's gaze.

The angel shrugged.

"That was nothing but a kiss. If that doesn't convince you that I'm not a human male, then nothing will."

He walked to Dean and leaned in. Dean held his breath. He shivered, the hairs of his body like so many tendrils reaching out for Castiel.

"Please consider my argument. This was nothing but the whisper of a thrill."

Castiel back away with his newfound confidence and Dean had to resist with all his strength not to grab the angel and pull him back against his body. Castiel walked out of the room. Dean's knees buckled under his weight. In this position, his underwear became growingly uncomfortable. He groaned and looked at the trashed room. Sam was going to kill him.


	6. Chapter 6

For Dean, the following two months flew by in a drug filled like euphoria. He remembered very little of the cases he and Sam solved. Each of the angel's embrace, however, was burned in his memory with alarming clarity. Each touch, each kiss… He could recall every single one of them with crystal clear accuracy. Strangely, these images were clinical and no matter how much he tried, he could not recall or even begin to replicate the sensations. This left him wanting more. Every night, after Sam went to sleep, whether home or away, Dean prayed to Castiel, who in turn, only waiting for the call, whisked his lover away for one more passionate embrace.

At first, Castiel was afraid to take things to the next level. Dean had passed out from a mere kiss; who could tell what full on sex would do to him. If ever angels had taken a man through their true form, none of them had left a written account of it. He had double checked. God might have known about it, with him having had boyfriends… and being omniscient, of course. Dean, however, begged for more, so Castiel slowly started experimenting. The sex soon took epic proportions.

One thing bothered the angel, however. And so after a particularly tiring hunt, he decided to take the plunge. Hopefully, Dean's defenses would be easier to break due to fatigue. Castiel walked to the bathroom of the small motel room they would most likely trash – so much for the security deposit. Dean stood in the bleak light, a towel around his waist. He smiled as soon as he saw the angel and he reached out to kiss him. Castiel responded to the embrace and pressed his lover's body against his. He could feel Dean's erection through the towel. He had to make the move before desire took over. Gently, he broke the kiss and rested his head on Dean's chest, facing away.

"Something wrong?"

There was urgency in the man's voice.

Castiel took a deep breath and pull away to face his lover. He cleared his throat.

"Dean. I… I was wondering if we could do things differently tonight?"

The man frowned.

"Different how?"

Castiel swallowed hard.

"Could we do it… Without the angel mojo?" he asked, using Dean's words.

Dean crossed his arms. Castiel winced internally. This wasn't going well. But it was playing exactly as he had imagined.

"I don't know, man."

Before he could stop himself, Castiel grabbed Dean's forearm.

"I just want. I want to feel the way you feel. I want… I want you to take me."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He pursed his lips then frowned. He shook his head.

"I don't know. I… I need to think about this."

Castiel's heart sank. Ignoring his disappointment, he tried to embrace Dean but the man took a step back, his open palms creating a barrier between the two of them.

"Sorry, Cas. Not in the mood anymore. Can you leave please?"

Castiel tried to smile as best as he could but a strange grimace was all he could muster. He whooshed away before Dean could see more of his pain. The man stroked his forehead and sighed.

A series of unfortunate events meant that the lovers did not get the opportunity to make up or discuss the angel's request. Isham and the vengeful Lily kept them busy; it gave the two lovers the perfect fuel for their anger and resentment. Even if they did make peace in the end, they weren't given time enough to mend before Dean lost his memory. One thing led to the other and before they knew it, Castiel had almost died.

As he drove home, Sam in the passenger seat, Castiel quiet in the back, Dean tried his best to calm his mind. As much as a master of emotions as he was, the events of the last few hours had truly shocked him. Even as he had assured Castiel that they would find a way to save him, he had felt darkness take over his soul. He had been certain that he would lose the angel. No matter how he had racked his brain, no solution had presented itself. He owed Crowley a debt he would never be able to repay. He would also never make the King of Hell aware of it, of course.

Now that the fear was gone, he felt shaky. Yes, he had almost lost Castiel. But the boldness with which the angel had declared his love in no uncertain terms – and in front of everyone – had rattled him. With the dust settling, Dean found himself inspecting his own feeling. He knew he would have to respond to the declaration in some way or other. This was unlike the first time Castiel had shared his feeling with him, desperate and broken. These were the unapologetic feelings of a man making peace with death.

Dean jumped at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, thus almost driving the Impala off the road.

"Woah! Dude! What's wrong with you?"

Dean steadied the car then turned to his brother, annoyed.

"What?"

"Do you mind slowing down before you kill all of us?"

"It isn't possible for me to die in this manner," said the angel in the backseat.

Dean couldn't help but laugh. Sam rolled his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists as he walked towards his room. He knew Castiel would be waiting for him. He knew this was the time to confront the angel with his offer. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He was still under the shock of his once lover's almost death. He stopped in front of the door and rested his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and walked in.

Castiel sat on the bed staring at the void like he was wont to do when he waited. He could keep this up for fairly long periods of the time, which always creeped Dean a little bit. The angel stood up to greet him but stopped a few paces short of the man. Suddenly, Dean's heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. Castiel cocked his head sideways. Dean resisted the urge to kiss and embrace him. He knew what his answer was. He realised he had known all along but had just been too afraid to admit it to himself. He reached for the angel's hand and guided him back to bed. He then grabbed a chair and sat across his lover, elbows resting on his knees.

"Cas. We need to talk."

"Dean… What I said back there…"

Dean raised his hand.

"Please. This is not easy for me. Let me finish."

Castiel nodded.

"What… What happened tonight, it really got me thinking. I was scared shitless."

"I'm sorry."

Dean shifted on his seat.

"Don't. I'm not good at this. So here. I really thought we'd lose you back there. I thought _I'd_ lose you and…" His voice broke. He cleared his throat. "And the thought hurt like Hell."

He stared deeply and Castiel's blue eyes. The angel cocked his head again.

"What I mean to say is that I need you." He shook his head. "No, it's more than that."

Castiel scooted forward eagerly.

"I… Gee I feel so weird saying this." He laughed awkwardly. "I love you, Cas."

The words had barely escaped his mouth that the angel's lips were all over his. He let himself be pulled forward and ended up on top of Castiel. The angel groaned but did not break the kiss. He pulled his lover in closer, his hands pressing Dean's body hard against his. When the man resurfaced for some air, Castiel rolled on top of Dean. He helped him remove his shirt and t-shirt. With his finger, he traced Dean's tattoo, the many scars on his body. Meanwhile, the man busied himself with the angel's belt and trouser. Castiel abandoned his lover's chest to unbutton his shirt. He furtively glanced at Dean between buttons. The lust in his green eyes was enough to drive one mad. He took a deep breath, ensuring that his angel mojo wouldn't kick in. Once out of his shirt, he got off Dean and moved up the bed, inviting Dean to lie atop of him anew. He didn't hesitate. They kissed again, their breath short, their desire high.

Their pleasure spent, they rested one atop the other; Dean lingered, not wanting to break the warm embrace. This had been as pleasurable as the angel stuff, if somewhat different. He nestled his head in the crook of Castiel's neck and closed his eyes. This wasn't bad. Not bad at all He was close to falling asleep.

"Dean?"

"Ummm?"

"Do you really…?"

"Yeah"

Dean snuggled against his lover's neck, taking in his scent. He suddenly felt something wet on his face. He propped himself on one elbow.

"Cas? You ok?"

The angel shook his head. Tears were rolling abundantly on the side of his face and whatever couldn't escape was pulling fast in the inner corner of his eyes. Dean frowned.

"Hey it's ok." He kissed the angel and wiped his tears. "It's ok"

Castiel shook his head.

"Get off." His voice was a low rumble.

Dean scowled.

"What?"

"Get off!"

Castiel pushed Dean off him and rolled out of bed as fast he could.

"Close your eyes!"

As the words escaped his lips, a blast of light emanated from the angel. Dean only had enough time to duck beside the bed and cover his eyes with his forearm. It lasted only a moment. Dean chanced a peak but everything seemed so dark. He climbed back on the bed/

"Cas?"

A grunt. His eyes slowly getting accustoming themselves to the lowlight, Dean finally found the angel. He sat on the floor, still naked. The man jumped off the bed and grabbed his lover by the shoulders.

"Are you ok?"

Castiel nodded.

"I think so."

"What happened?"

Castiel looked up, his eyes meeting Dean's. The pain in the angel's gaze frightened him.

"The orb."

Dean looked down at Castiel's raised hand between them. Cradled in his palm sat a small calcined marble like sphere.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Castiel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Next to him, Dean snore lightly, his body taking more than a half of the space. The burnt out orb rested on the nightstand. He could almost feel it even though it was now an inert, lifeless thing. He didn't know what to make of it. He'd told Dean that he was fine, that they should go back to sleep and investigate later. But he wasn't fine. He felt… Well, compared to the roller coaster the orb had taken him through, he barely felt a thing. He was back to his angel baseline. Actually, not quite. He was back to his pre orb baseline. It wasn't that he felt nothing; he just felt less. In a way, it was a relief. These emotions had been exciting but they'd also been tiring and painful at times. He threw a sidelong glance at Dean. Love didn't fail to swell his heart, but nowhere as near the levels it had torn had him in the recent months. His stomach clenched. How was he supposed to tell the Winchester about this? Dean would feel betrayed, led on. Worse, he might even turn his back on Castiel. Even with his infatuation gone, the angel felt pain at the idea. Slowly, he propped himself up and sat on the edge of the bed. He hung his head, clasping his hands behind his neck, elbows resting on knees.

What kind of this joke has this been? Was this God's punishment for everything he had done, for becoming a false idol? That seemed unlikely. Chuck liked the Winchesters, he would never have done something that could directly or indirectly hurt them. Or would he? His track record hadn't exactly been clean… But if it was a punishment, why drag it so long? Why not just smite him and be done with it? Could it be a consequence of the orb having been made for humans? So many questions. He needed answers. He silently got up and without even a glance at the sleeping man, he swooshed away.

Dean sat in the reading room, piles of disorganised documents and books surrounding him. Sam walked it rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His heart sank at the sight of his brother. He sat across him.

"Dean?"

The man grunted without looking up.

"You've been at this for days. Looking in the same places over and over won't make any new information appear."

"I might have missed something." He turned the page of the book he was pouring over.

Sam sighed. He reached out and grabbed the book. Dean looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. The circles under his eyes had darkened.

"Are we going to talk about this?"

Dean shrugged.

"About what?"

Sam pinched his lips for a moment and exhaled through his nose.

"Do you really think I'm that dumb? That I don't know what goes on behind closed doors between you and Cas?"

Dean's eyes widened.

"Come on, man. Don't act all surprised. No matter how you two try to act normal, you suck at hiding all the eye fucking."

Dean opened his mouth. Sam didn't let him say anything.

"Oh and I know you two did something in my room. That probably was the lamest of all your attempts at covering up."

Dean looked away, his hand stroking his forehead.

"Sorry."

Sam shook his head.

"Whatever. I just don't want to know what it is you did or do. Cas is my friend, too. I don't want to know what you guys get up to. Frankly, I'd rather not think about it but you obviously can't deal alone. So hit me. What's the story?"

Dean stared at his brother. He would never tell him how much this lifeline meant to him. He cleared his throat and told Sam everything, trying his best to keep it PG13 when possible. The younger Winchester still winced several times. No amounts of mental bleach would suffice to erase the images Dean's words had triggered in his mind.

Dean handed the charred orb to Sam. The man rolled it around his palm for a moment. It was nothing but a compact ball of ashes.

"I wish we could call Bobby, "said Dean.

"We could call the British Men of Letter," offered Sam.

Dean shook his head.

"No way. I don't want those bastards nowhere near my private business."

Sam sighed.

"Alright. We'll find another way. But for now go to bed. You look like a lousy shape shifter version of yourself." He raised an eyebrow.

Dean assessed the mess of the reading room.

"I'll take care of it. Now GO!" Sam said.

"Alright. Goodnight. Or whatever."

Dean lay on his bed, restless. He reached for his phone.

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

Dean hung up. He'd already left way too many messages, sent too many texts. He dropped the phone on his chest and rubbed his eyes. It wasn't like crying would solve anything. He took a deep breath and tried to empty his mind. At some point, he turned to his side, hoping to find Castiel's smell on his bed. He fell asleep clutching his pillow.

NOTE

I wrote this listening to Hurts like Hell by Fleurie. I recommend as a soundtrack for this chapter. :)


	9. Chapter 9

Ten days had passed with no new of Castiel. Dean had continued his research with less and less dedication. By now, the angel should have shown up. He refused to believe that he had been used; yet, deep down he feared it more than anything else. At the same time, he felt a strange sense of relief. This was known territory. He had screwed things up just as usual. This only went to prove that no matter how hard he tried, he could never be in a relationship.

He'd been hanging around the kitchen, flirting with one or two too many beers when Sam showed up. He'd been going out on his own a bit too often. Dean wondered if he hung out with Mick but he was too jaded to care right now.

"Hey." Sam sat down across his brother. "You look like crap."

Dean handed him a beer.

"Lovely to see you, too."

Sam rolled his eyes and took a long draught of beer. Then, he produced a small book from the pocket of his jacket. . The pages were yellowed, the leather binding weathered. Not weathered enough, however, to hide an old etching. He leafed through it until he found what he was looking for

"Is this the Men of Letter's symbol?"

He made for the book but Sam moved it out of his reach.

"Yes."

Dean jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process and started pacing.

"Dammit, Sam! I told you I didn't want anything to do with them."

"Calm down, will you? I didn't talk to them. Mom did.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks.

"Cos that makes it so much better."

Sam shrugged.

"You didn't say I couldn't talk to her. Anyway. Just sit down."

Dean glared at his brother for a moment then grabbed his chair and sat down. He crossed his arms on the table and cradled his head atop.

"Want to hear this or are you going to sleep?"

The older Winchester groaned. All that pacing had made him queasy.

"Just talk."

Sam cleared his throat.

"According to this, the vota orbis was given to deserving humans has a reward. Whomever it was bestowed upon would get their greatest desire. However, the orb doesn't work like a genie's wish. It doesn't grant wishes, it helps people get what they want."

Dean perked up.

"What do you mean?"

"Well imagine you're a farmer but you want to make a good marriage with someone richer than you. The orb will make it so you get all the things you need to achieve that goal. Be it money, status, looks, etc."

"So the orb helped Cas get… me?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It gave Cas the human feelings he needed to woe you."

Sam shuddered at the words he never thought he'd ever say. Dean propped his head with his right hand, ignoring his brother's reaction.

"Ok. Then what? You better have something else to add."

"When the object of your desires is obtained, the orb burns out. It also takes away everything that helped you get what you wanted."

"Like what, gold and stuff?"

Sam shook his head.

"No, whatever was acquired remains yours. You lose whatever mental enhancement the orb gave you. So let's say it made you clever enough to become rich and marry above your station, you will lose whatever skills made you clever."

"Basically, you revert to being an idiot?"

"Not exactly. Your memory won't get wiped out. You'll remember everything but won't quite be able to figure out how you did it."

Dean stared at the book for a while. Sam waited.

"So what you're saying is that Cas' has been… reset?"

"If what this book says is true, yes. I'm sor…"

Dean raised his hand in front of him and looked away.

"Please don't." He got up and aimed for the door. Sam grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Dean. It might be different for angels. Plus you don't know how Cas felt about you before…

Dean glared at his brother. Sam let go and moved out of the way. He stared as the older Winchester walked away, shoulders slumped, head hung. The brothers had gone through some weird stuff in their time, but to Sam, this was by far the most surreal of them all.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A fortnight passed with no news of Castiel. In the meantime, the Winchester had been involved in a massive vampire attack at the British Men of Letters' temporary headquarters. Dawn was creeping on the horizon when the two men reached the bunker. Sam had fallen asleep in the front seat; Dean decided to leave him there. He closed the door as quietly as possible and made for his room. He was knackered and probably should've taken a shower but he just couldn't be bothered. He took of his dirty clothes, washed his face in the small sink and slipped on an old t-shirt. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He started awake. He'd been dreaming, something unpleasant. He rubbed his eyes. He'd left the lights on. He shifted to his back, extending his arm to get the switch. He started again.

"Hello, Dean."

"Son of a bitch! You almost gave me a heart attack."

Castiel frowned.

"Your heart appears to be functioning normally."

Dean shook his head. He couldn't help but feel relieved that Castiel was alright.

"Why are you so dusty?"

Castiel patted his trench coat: a cloud of dust floated in the air. Suddenly, the grief of the past month hit Dean like a brick. He sat up.

"Where were you, anyway?" he asked, trying to hide the hurt in his voice.

Castiel didn't register it. Or if he did, he pretended not to.

"The Vatican's Secret Archives. I mean, the secret, secret archives, not the ones you humans have access to."

"Would it have hurt to tell me where you were going? A lot of crap went on here; we could have used your help." _I could've used your help._

Castiel scrutinized Dean for a moment, his brow creased, his head cocked.

"You resent me."

Dean would normally have rolled his eyes. Instead, he felt the heavy weight in his stomach grow in size. He averted his eyes.

"I needed to find out more about the orb. I had to. I'm sorry, Dean. I needed to find the truth so I would not give you false hope."

Dean's heart sank. This was it. This was Castiel dumping him. He fought hard to keep his anger at bay.

"And you think it was better hearing explanations from Sam, from a book he nicked from the British Men of Letters?"

Castiel cocked his head the other side.

"Their knowledge is limited to anecdotal evidence of the effects of the orb on humans. I wanted to get accurate information."

"So that thing about losing whatever ability made you get what you want, it's all bull?"

Castiel shook his head.

"No, that is accurate."

Dean clenched his fists on his lap and stared at them. He waited, not trusting himself to speak.

"The orb functions the same way on humans as on angels in this regard. But its interaction with the grace is very different."

Dean looked up.

"In humans, once the desire is obtained, every trace of that want is erased along with whatever skills were temporarily bestowed by the orb. That way, in theory, the human can feel content. That book Sam got probably already told you that. In angels, the orb creates something akin to a fever, enhancing human traits to help obtain the object of one's desire. Once obtained, the fever subsides, but the desire remains, even if fulfilled."

Dean stared at Castiel.

"What does that even mean?"

Castiel looked away and scratched his neck.

"I means my desire was to have your… your love. And now, even without the orb, I still have feelings for you."

He met Dean's gaze.

"After the orb went off, I left because I was afraid. After all that passion, I felt… empty. But now that time has passed, I realise that my feelings haven't changed. I don't need a divine device to feel or get what I want. Nothing has changed. I still love you."

Dean jumped to his feet. His body shook. He walked past Castiel and out of the room. Castiel followed him with his eyes. He jumped when the door shut. He waited a moment. Maybe Dean would come back. He had tried to picture every possible outcome. He hadn't come up with this one. And it hurt. More than he thought it would.

After a while, it became obvious that Dean wasn't coming back. Castiel went out after him. His stepped echoed in the darkness of the tiled corridor. After a cursory look at the different bedroom, the angel finally found the Winchester standing in the reading room, his back to him. Castiel stopped a few paces away from the man. He didn't need to get much closer to see Dean's body trembled, his fingers tightly wrapped on the back of the chair. Anger. It was to be expected.

Castiel pinched his lips, unsure if he should let the man be. That probably was what Dean wanted. And it is exactly why the angel decided against it.

"Dean?"

Dean started and turned around before he could even think to stop himself. Castiel's jaw dropped. His lovers face was contorted in a grimace and tears ran abundantly on his cheeks. The angel frowned. To add to his confusion, Dean tried to smile despite his trembling chin.

"I… I was so afraid…" he sobbed. He took a few tentative steps towards Castiel. "I thought…" He took a deep breath, wiped his face. "I thought you'd never come back." He laughed through his tears.

Castiel couldn't read Dean's mixed signals. He'd never seen him like that.

"Dean… I…. Are you alright? I can't tell."

The look of genuine concern on his lover's face brought forth more tears, a few sobs, and, eventually, laughter. None of this helped Castiel. Dean tried to calm himself down long enough to talk.

"I'm relieved. That's all."

"This is what relief looks like?"

"I guess I've been carrying a lot of emotional stuff lately."

"But why did you get out of the room?" asked Castiel.

Dean shrugged. Tears still rolled on his cheeks but he was calmer.

"I thought I was going to explode."

Castiel cocked his head sideways and frowned.

"That seems unlikely."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. Castiel's frown deepened, as if he was focusing on a complicated algebra problem. Or pooping. Either or. Dean smiled.

"Is it ok if I touch you?" asked the angel.

Dean nodded and wiped his face anew.

"Close your eyes." said Castiel.

He did.

The soft golden light seeped through his closed eyelids. He felt Castiels hands gently pulling him against his chest. A small tremor was soon followed by the feeling of wings cradling him. Dean rested his head against Castiel's shoulder, his nose picking up the faint smell of the angel's vessel hidden in the musty smell of long forgotten books. He pulled Castiel closer, his hands finding the stems of his wings.

This was good.

This was enough.


End file.
